While this tale was being told, Falkner had leisure to recover from that boiling of the blood which the first apprehension of unworthy conduct in one of our fellow-creatures is apt to excite, and now spoke with his usual composure. "I cannot believe," he said, "that this man's evidence is of the import which is supposed. No one, in fact, believes that I am a murderer; every one knows that I am innocent. All that we have to do is to prove this in a sort of technical and legal manner; and yet hardly that--for we are not to address the deaf ear of law, but the common sense of twelve men, who will not be slow, I feel assured, in recognising the truth. All that can be done to make my story plain, and to prove it by circumstances, of course must be done; and I do not fear but that, when it is ingenuously and simply told, it will suffice for my acquittal." "It is right to hope for the best," said Mr. Colville; "but Osborne's refusal to come is, in itself, a bad fact; the prosecutor will insist much upon it--I would give a hundred pounds to have him here." "I would not give a hundred pence," said Falkner, dryly. The other stared--the observation had an evil effect on his mind; he fancied that his client was even glad that a witness so material refused to appear, and this to him had the aspect of guilt. He continued, "I am so far of a different opinion, that I should advise sending a second time. Had you a friend sufficiently zealous to undertake a voyage across the Atlantic for the purpose of persuading Osborne--" "I would not ask him to cross a ditch for the purpose," interrupted Falkner, with some asperity. "Let such men as would believe a dastard like Osborne in preference to a gentleman and a soldier, take my life, if they will. It is not worth this pains in my own eyes--and thirsted for by my fellow-men, it is a burden I would willingly lay down." The soft touch of Elizabeth's hand placed on his recalled him--he looked on her tearful eyes, and became aware of his fault--he smiled to comfort her. "I ought to apologize to these gentlemen for my hastiness," he said, "and to you, my dear girl, for my apparent trifling--but there is a degradation in these details that might chafe a more placid temper. I cannot, I will not descend to beg my life; I am innocent; this all men must know, or at least will know, when their passions are no longer in excitement against me--I can say no more--I cannot win an angel from heaven to avouch my guiltlessness of her blood--I cannot draw this miserable fellow from his cherished refuge. All must fall on my own shoulders--I must support the burden of my fate; I shall appear before my judges; if they, seeing me, and hearing me speak, yet pronounce me guilty, let them look to it--I shall be satisfied to die, so to quit at once a blind, bloodthirsty world!"